Inbetweenings
by Kwawtemok
Summary: Malex. R for language & "theme." ‘inbetweenings’ was written after i concluded that the malex backstory was too incomplete to leave aside, shortly after ‘rainy day women’ ended. r&r please.


'inbetweenings'

disclaimer- i don't own the oc, josh does. but the oc owns me.

'inbetweenings' was written after i concluded that the malex backstory was too incomplete to leave aside, shortly after 'rainy day women' ended. huge chunks of material were left undiscussed, so i decided to make said material up. the story is tightly tied to the episodes themselves, specifically, episodes 2.9 thru 2.13. episode 2.14 happens immediately following the end of ch. 10. episode 2.15 has dampened my writing resolve. read on. as an aside, i'm not big on capitalization, and i wrote 'judy' instead of 'jody' for some reason. oneshot. r&r please.

marissa and alexandra

i. marissa

the boys had finally left us alone and we were sitting in her apartment watching tv. her ex girlfriend was asleep in the other room and we sat in silence, with some horror movie in the background. our knees were almost touching.

i wanted to look at her. as my eyes moved, i suddenly caught myself and turned them away. why was i sneaking a peek at alex? that has never happened to me before, i thought. i wanted to look at her because she was beautiful. i just hadn't realized it until that moment.

but why did i think she was beautiful? well, her face was beautiful, and she has an amazing personality, and she treats me like a real person, and—but i caught myself, again. why am i thinking about these things, i thought. focus on the television, i thought.

and i peeked at her again.

what is wrong with me? i thought as i diverted my attention back to the tv. oh my god, she's going to think i'm staring at her. well, i am staring at her. but it's not like that, i'm not staring at her… i'm just … looking at her. oh yes you are staring at her, don't deny it. you're staring at her eyes. that's what you like about her, isn't it? yes, it is. her eyes are really amazing. i've never met anyone with eyes like that. piercing green eyes. i feel she's looking right through my mind. whenever i'm around her i feel so hokey, so stupid, so … transparent. her eyes tell me things no one else could tell me about her. and every time i look straight at them, it's like i'm receiving a gift of some sort, and i just feel so guilty because i don't think i deserve it. i know that's why i can't stare at her eyes too long. i'm forced to look away sometimes. oh, i hope she doesn't think it's because i don't like her, because i do, i do. god, not that i would ever want anything beyond… friendship… unless, of course, she offered something… but i know she won't. i'm not her type. god, her ex is just so beautiful… i don't think she'd go for me. not that i would want her to…

okay, so i'm staring at her… what's wrong with that? she's beautiful and i like seeing beautiful things. no, no, you're staring at her because—

i decided to think about something else. and i peeked at her again. i caught her peeking too. she had a little smirk on her face that i'd never seen before. or at least that's what i think i saw. i started feeling very lightheaded, and my pulse was going wild. what is happening to me?

that whole night was a fuzzy, unbearable exercise in self-restraint.

in the morning, i woke up on her couch with a mild hangover. i didn't remember going to sleep; the television was still on. as soon as i got up, alex came out of her room and suggested we go shopping. well, it was saturday…

the next five days alex and i were inseparable. i would come back from school and visit her at the bar. judy usually wasn't around on weekdays, as she worked most afternoons, so alex and i would go shopping or to eat in the early evening. we became very close. by thursday—the day she gave me her heart—i knew it was inevitable.

ii. alex

marissa called me early the morning after judy and i had our most intense session. we had had a huge fight the night before, and ended up talking about our relationship and, inevitably, arguing about each other's infidelities. we started drinking, and one thing led to another. that night was one of the sweetest, bitterest, most intense nights of our relationship. i also knew it would be the last.

when i woke up that day, the realization of what had just happened sank in, and i told judy to leave. we had another fight, and by 8 that morning, she was gone.

i started sobbing as soon as she closed her car door. i could not believe what had just happened. and then, i thought about marissa. why isn't she here? i thought. why isn't she here to comfort me? and i caught myself at that instant; why do i want marissa here? she's not my girlfriend… well, she is my girl friend, but i don't want anything with her… oh i'm just being paranoid, i thought, and tried to think about my ex. but as soon as i focused on her face, she would magically turn into marissa. and i sobbed harder. why is that happening?

for five full minutes—what seemed like an hour, really—i tossed marissa's image around in my mind, trying to force it away, but slowly—and somewhat gratefully?—realised it was never going to happen. i finally gave up and got up and started walking around.

why doesn't she call me? i thought. i know she likes me. i know it. i just know it. what is wrong with her today? she always calls me. is she sick? maybe she's sick. maybe that mother of hers is back. maybe she has something to take care of, someone to take care of, maybe one of those friends of hers, maybe, maybe ryan? he seems like a heartbreaker, but she says she's over him . . . maybe summer. summer could be sick . . . all right, why is she taking care of another girl? oh my god, where is judy? is she with my ex? does judy know where she lives? no, she couldn't have. oh, stop having stupid fantasies. oh god, maybe she doesn't like me anymore. what the fuck did i do this time? i always fuck it up like this. oh god, i've been nothing but nice to her. no, no, stop that. i know she likes me, i know it, i know it when she looks at me. fuck. i didn't do anything. we would be so perfect together. i know i'm not really thinking that, except that, well, i am. no, i know she likes me. so that can't be it. no, maybe she's sick. maybe she's in trouble. who knows.

why isn't she calling me?

marissa called barely fifteen minutes later on that pale thursday morning.

i pretended to be happy, even though inside i was tearing up. i know that deep down, i was happy that my ex was gone, but the pain of breakup was still very tangible. marissa invited me to her house, and i said ok.

while i was dressing, i noticed my heart necklace was gone.

iii. marissa

friday morning we finally got back to the oc after spending most of thursday night getting lost in the la streets. we were equipped not with one necklace, but two. one heart for her, and one heart for me. judy would probably have realized it was missing about now.

alex and i talked and flirted all that weekend. our chemistry was completely undeniable. all that mattered now was who would break first. who would be the first person to make a move?

it was a horrible game, and those next four days were practically torture for me. why we even did that, i don't know. pride, maybe, although i knew every second of those four days that mine had ceased to mean anything to me after that thursday afternoon. friday i waited thirty minutes to call her, not knowing what to say, or what do talk about. the moment she picked up, not even her most theatrical voice could hide that anxiety i so longed to hear. she liked me too, and i knew it. that friday morning, i finally knew it, and yet friday came and went, saturday came and went, with no incident. why we kept up the pretense that long is beyond me. maybe it was the frequent interruption of the outside world, or our own insecurities, or a combination of both.

sunday morning was the turnaround. for whatever reason, it had always been my job, so to speak, to call her in the morning. i mostly called around eight in the morning; she usually went into work at ten. on friday, i called her at 8:30; on saturday, at 9:15. on sunday morning, though, the tables turned; alex called me at eight and two minutes.

what am i doing today? probably nothing, mom's not back til tomorrow, how about you? the same chatter we had had to endure for those two days suddenly seemed pointless. time to be aggressive, i thought. my new sense of confidence gave me the boldness to ask her out.

i was thinking dinner? and a movie? let's have dinner and a movie. though i didn't actually say the word date.

and to my surprise, she immediately said ok.

actually, i wasn't that surprised. but i was.

after the movie was over, and a whole lot of flirting later, we decided to go to a bar. we were both extremely coy about it, ridiculously so; it was obvious we both had the same thing in mind, but it was almost as if we thought we were being watched; we never said or suggested or even implied anything was out of the ordinary, at least with our oral language. body language though, was something else. well, at least that's what i thought.

our bar—not alex's bar; it would have been far too obvious—turned out to be too noisy to talk, so we opted instead for a quick can of beer, and we bought some coronas on the way back to her place. once there, we did the same things we always did—sit down, drink, watch tv. some 'valley' reruns were on.

can you believe i met those actors? they aren't really like real people, i said while alex covered herself with a nearby blanket. she offered me it, and i gingerly took it. what do you mean? she asked. summer and i met grady once, i said; he tried to make out with her. i raised the beer to my lips, finished it, and set it down. i came closer to alex, if only millimetrically. i told her the entire story while she handed me another beer. she moved closer to me too.

this time, though, as we huddled under the blanket, alex did something different. our movement was deliberate, conspiring, accidental, like locusts walking across a window. when we were finally snuggled up together, drunk, talking interesting nonsense as drunk girls do, alex suddenly took my hand in hers. startled, i almost stopped breathing. the feeling was so amazing, the sudden feeling of being loved. . . . i was paralyzed with a joy i had never felt before. after several very emotional seconds, i looked up at alex. she was already looking at me.

i stared into her deep green eyes for what seemed like hours, but in my drunken stupour, was probably anywhere from one to twenty minutes. she only stared back. no words were even necessary. we just looked into each other's eyes, while mtv played some far-fetched love song. we stayed like that and just felt the days pass. i felt like i could die then and there, and i would know that i had experienced life.

iv. alex

when i woke up monday morning not to the sound of marissa calling me on the phone but my alarm yelling at me from across the room at eight fifteen am, i at first felt startled. i had grown so unused to that alarm, i started panicking. why didn't marissa call me? the events of last night came back to me in a flood. i immediately looked beside me. marissa was not there. i reached out, just to make sure. where had she gone? i started panicking again. suddenly the noise of the alarm came back to me. oh fuck, i thought, and lurched clumsily with a head full of fog off my bed, and ran to turn it off. i mentally sighed with relief when i heard the soft patter of footsteps.

marissa came in, wearing a towel. her hair was still wet. hey, she said. how are you holding up there?

like a flash, it hit me that i was topless. oh shit, i thought for a split second, is she allowed to see me like this? what the fuck happened last night? i looked at her face, looked back at my alarm, and then started getting really confused.

"um… fine, i'm fine," i said. what happened last night?

i pretended to need to sit down, so i dumbly went back to the bed, hid myself under the sheets, and said, "i have a hangover."

marissa, cool as ever, said, "oh, ok, do you want like, a coffee or something?"

thanks, please, i replied, and she disappeared into the kitchen. i tried to collect my thoughts. what the fuck had happened? why was i topless? what was the last thing i remembered? why couldn't i remember everything? did i drink too much? oh, stupid question.

marissa called to me from the kitchen. get up and take a shower, you'll be late for work! oh, right, i thought; work. i need to go work. i need to shower. i can think in the shower.

i grabbed the nearest t-shirt, put it on, and scurried into the bathroom. i stripped and got into the shower.

what the fuck had happened?

little things started coming back to me. we each finished five beers, and then we lay in bed for a long time. . . . i remembered staring at her, longingly; i remembered suggesting the nearby motel's pool. i remembered how swiftly she accepted, and how we piled into my car, narrowly avoided several accidents, climbed the motel fence, and dove into the pool with only our bottoms on. we still had eight beers to go. by the time someone called to complain of all the noise we were making we were both thoroughly smashed.

the last thing i remembered was drunkenly accepting a cab ride home. i didn't remember climbing out of the car, going into my house, or crashing onto my bed. and i certainly didn't remember marissa crashing onto my bed, either. all i remember is drifting awake in the middle of the night, in a horrible, unforgiving stupour, feeling a warm body next to mine, snuggled up against me, cozy against my bare breasts, and i remember hugging that warm body, loving it just for being there, and drifting back into blissful sleep. that's all i remember.

suddenly my mouth started watering. i keeled over almost immediately, stepping out of the shower. i puked into the toilet.

i needed to go get my car, i suddenly realized.

i was going to be really late to work.

v. marissa

sunday's events removed from my mind any last doubts i had. i was definitely attracted to alex, and i finally felt i could accept that as it was. my insecurities about having an unorthodox relationship felt selfish to me now. i knew i liked her, and i knew there was nothing wrong with that. but a part of me still knew how other people would react, and i felt scared about that anyway, although i knew it didn't matter.

before sunday, my feelings for alex had overwhelmed me somewhat. the impact of her presence and her friendliness towards me were little luxuries that made the most excruciating parts of my days bearable. that she could have such an effect on me scared me a little at first. now i had no doubts.

i thought about ryan. ryan had made me feel something similar, something very similar. and yet with him it never was the same, because ryan was such a riddle, such an impenetrable, stubborn being. . . . i felt his silences were little betrayals, because i wanted to share things with him and whether or not he did too, i shared and he didn't. alex wasn't like that; her world was wide open to me, and i never had to rip words out of her. maybe it was her relative newness. and all the same, alex, too, had her riddles. i was trying my best to make her see what i wanted, but she only responded sporadically; and ironically, her unpredictability only made me want her more.

her unpredictability was also starting to get me really worried. the week seemed so long; maybe i was wrong, i thought. saturday, sunday, monday, and nothing had happened, not a thing. maybe i had misjudged all the little signs. after all, she was a girl. i was flirting with her as though she was a guy, and i thought that would be obvious enough. but maybe i was wrong? maybe this game was different, and i just didn't understand the rules.

monday night i visited her again after school, and ended up crashing at her place again. i desperately wanted to make a move, but i felt foolish and inappropriate. i had never made the first move on anyone; i was so completely clueless i was paralysed. alex's icy-sultry approach to conversation only enhanced my feelings of imprudence. does she not get it? i thought. or is she pretending not to? does she not like me?

tuesday morning i woke up on her couch, pain in my neck, and thought, all right. this is ridiculous. something needs to happen. last night we both slept in her bed, and now i'm on the couch? time to turn up the flirting, i said to myself. if she isn't getting it now, she will by the time today ends.

i got up and walked to her room. she was already up, listening to music, being herself. she asked me something about school, and i said that i'd decided to skip school today, and asked her what she wanted to do.

vi. alex

when marissa tried that coy "can i borrow another shirt, this one smells like cigarettes," routine on tuesday, i knew she was getting a little impatient. so was i, for that matter. she was skipping class again just to be with me. i wanted to do something, but i was still very confused over judy, and over seth, a little. i could only carry on as usual. but i was having a blast with marissa. tuesday mornings i had off from the bar, so we spent it mostly on the beach.

i taught marissa how to surf. or, i tried to. she kept flirting with me. i did enjoy it, of course; marissa is pretty hot. . . . as confused as i was, i was quite sure i was attracted to her. i had spent all monday thinking about her, and judy, and seth, and sorting through my ridiculous confusion. i took her flirting lightly though, because i knew she didn't know what she was doing. maybe she was thinking her flirting conveyed a message, one she thought i didn't get. i'd gotten it a long time ago. weeks ago. but i didn't know if i wanted to leap into another relationship again. after all, i hadn't been single in a long time. and after the 'cuddling incident,' i knew what was going to happen, and i wanted to at least make sure it happened in the right way this time, for once.

later that afternoon, when marissa came by the bar to ask if she could crash again—for the third night in a row—i felt a little pressured. i liked her, but what was she doing to me? why couldn't she be straightforward with me? i knew what she wanted. i wanted it too. but she was trying to play games with me, and i didn't really like that. so i decided to confront her.

what are you doing with me? i asked.

she tried to avoid it but i pressed it. she had to understand that if she wanted something with me she had to act. she had to stop this stupid flirting game. finally she retracted her petition and said she should sleep at home anyway. she left, confused, and i felt confused too, but i also felt better. to me everything was this clear: she was hitting on me. if she wanted it, she should come and get it.

that night i was working late, trying not to think too much about her. we had a major show on, so i had to be into the work. which made the surprise of seeing marissa come back all the more pleasant. i was listening to the band, and marissa came from behind me and took my hand. i had a flashback to sunday night, when we had cuddled and i had reached for hers. now she was finally reciprocating, and it felt wonderful. that moment i was happy, and everything seemed finally worth it.

vii. marissa

alex and i talked a lot that week, and she made it clear, through our deliberate, careful language, that she wanted to take it very slow. getting herself into "situations" too fast, it seemed, had always been her worst relationship problem. i thought i knew what she meant. i guess that after that crazy sunday night, she just felt like things were happening a little too fast.

and, well, i didn't blame her. she'd just gotten out of two relationships. so for the rest of that week, we were just friends for a while. i felt myself getting more comfortable with her. she didn't intimidate me as much; i didn't feel the need to flirt with her so much anymore. maybe i had misunderstood her standoffishness; she was just recovering from judy and seth.

that weekend, we went shopping, and drank ourselves retarded, and watched boring movies. i felt that the pressure was off; i knew she liked me, and i knew she knew i liked her, and i didn't need to keep proving it. and after all, the best part of any relationship is the anticipation.

we held hands late at night on saturday again. i felt very close to her, in a way i'd never felt close to a boy before. things with boys had always been done so fast, going through the motions automatically to get somewhere faster. this was so sweetly languorous in comparison; it felt like a perfect life.

i stayed with her really late into that night. we drank, she smoked, we talked about silly things. i talked to her about ryan, about my risible imitation of a mother, and my problems. she talked to me about judy, about her parents, and her job. i went home at around 3.

on sunday, my mother rudely awoke me and basically blackmailed me into having dinner with her on monday. which meant i got to spend valentine's day with my mother. how thrilling, i thought.

viii. alex

that weekend was beautiful and lazy, and i found myself wanting to be with marissa more and more. i now knew it wasn't just a fancy; after all, marissa could be a tease. on sunday, when marissa came by the bar, i felt pleased, and enjoyed her attention. it finally felt right. i finally said the d-word.

that's right, marissa and i would be going on a date.

not on valentine's day, though. i'd lost my virginity—unwillingly—on valentine's day, five years ago, and ever since then had hated that day. so i told her tuesday. she said okay.

valentine's day came, though, and marissa dropped by after having supper with her mother. she expressed my feelings without me having to say a word. she said it made her happy that she could just come by the bar and see me. feeling loved is deeply intoxicating; i suddenly felt like a fool with my valentine's day rule. here was this girl, this beautiful girl, who liked me, telling me she likes me, and only asking for my permission to be liked in return.

i asked her if she wanted to join me on the beach; i wanted to see the tide change. i told her it was a ritual for when something major was about to happen in my life. i think she knew what i meant. when she reminded me of my valentine's day rule, i said, screw it. the past is the past, i thought.

when the tide turned, marissa and i finally shared our first kiss.

marissa slept over that night. we made out for a long time. then we talked, endlessly, about everything. she told me her life story, her relationship with her mother, her child-of-divorce speech, her complex relationships with luke, and ryan, and oliver, and dj. i told her about my own parents, and about judy, and about seth, and about andre, and about helen. she told me about her adorable friends seth and summer and i told her about my annoying friends lauren and christine. and when we finished talking, we locked eyes and soon locked lips as well. and when we kissed, i felt a magical rejuvenation, as if my soul was somehow multiplying. i don't remember falling asleep; we kissed long into the night.

on tuesday, she went to school—a little late, though—and we had our first real date that evening.

marissa seemed so much more relaxed. her flirting was more overt, but at the same time much more down to earth. i liked this new side of her. when she dropped her Newport-ridden façade of coolness, she could be astonishingly sweet. i really like her, i thought. she's so . . . different. so not-boring . . . seth was so boring, judy was so boring compared to marissa! confused, and yet with such eyes full of hope, listening to emo, dressing like a model, knowing herself so well, and so young. . . . and yet, so troubled, and desperate, and clawing at limbs. i needed to know that i wasn't one of those limbs.

on wednesday we both took a little break to see our other friends for a change; we'd been getting calls from people wondering if we were dead. she hung out with summer, and she promised me she'd tell her about us. i visited christine and lauren, some high school friends. the whole time i was with them, though, i just missed marissa. i told them i wished there was some way we could all hang out, and they responded as friends would.

"aww. look, alex is missing her girlfriend already."

"how long have you been apart? five minutes?"

"you know what i mean. i wish there was a way we all could hang out, you know, me and her, and you guys, and her friends . . ."

"why don't you, then?"

"you know how marissa's friends are . . ."

"straight, you mean?"

"well . . . yeah. and we're . . ."

"queer?"

"if you put it that way . . ." i grinned.

"why don't you at least invite her to a party just with us? then at least we can get to meet her. we'll invite ashley and her new girlfriend, too . . . it'll be fun!"

ix. marissa

when it was finally time for me to tell summer, i was so scared. i couldn't foresee her being unconditional, and i was afraid what that might mean. so when she said that she was cool with it, i was relieved, and so happy. and when i told alex that i'd told summer, she looked so relieved. although i couldn't believe that at first she thought i was breaking up with her. why would i do that to her? she knew me better than that.

i knew how she felt about my skipping out on her party on thursday, though. she'd just have to understand. i wasn't prepared to be what she wanted me to be. all of this was suddenly new to me, now that we were actually going out. while i was the one chasing her, everything was really easy, because after all the chase is what i'm good at. much to my chagrin it's always the actual trophy that is my trouble. and besides, i really did need to spend some time with my mother at caleb's party, lest she try to blackmail me into something again. i hated her, i did, and yet i depended on her. i just did what i had to do.

that's how i discovered another thing i loved about alex. i could talk to her about those things and she would understand me. not that ryan or even luke hadn't tried; but alex really seemed to actually understand, and that made all the difference. when i explained to her why i despised Newport, she listened, and took it in, and understood. newport's the same as my part of santa ana, she said. morality doesn't mean anything there, and neither does it here, or anywhere. and if everyone knew what was going on with everyone, all the time, our lives would really be impossible.

i stared at her plaintively, and her eyes shone. so i asked her.

you wanna meet my mom?

x. alex

i was honestly disappointed with marissa after she skipped out of the party, but i knew where she was coming from, and i realised my expectations were just a bit unrealistic. so i tried to put it into perspective for her, because i knew marissa was someone special, and that didn't come along every day.

no, i said. not yet.

she was silent, and i added haltingly, look, marissa. . . . i know you have a lot of um, things that you have to work out with your mom. . . . i . . . maybe you should work those out before i . . . do you know what i mean?

she stayed quiet for a while. then she said, you're right. it can wait. well, i wanted you to come over to my house, you know? but you'd have to meet my mom, first, and i thought . . . but . . . well, i don't know . . .

would you be planning on telling her? i asked.

um . . . of course, i've been thinking how best to do that, she replied.

all right, she said, well now that you've told summer, it shouldn't be that hard, right? i mean, if summer knows, then they probably all know by now, don't they?

no, no, she said a bit too hastily. summer said she wouldn't tell anyone, marissa clarified. she knows it's private stuff. i don't . . . we don't talk about each other's private stuff with other people . . .

i cut her off. okay, i said. i believe you. i didn't really, but it wasn't worth an argument. i continued, "but i mean, you've told me a lot of things about summer, and about ryan, and seth. . . ." i paused. "but i believe you."

good, she replied, somewhat harshly. then she added, "i will tell my mother. i'll tell her soon. i promise."

all right, i said. i sat down next to her on the couch and turned her head, brushed her hair, and kissed her slowly. "i do want to visit your house," i said, and kissed her again. she kissed me hesitantly at first, but then quickly got into it. "i do want to meet your family, and not have to act as strangers with them," i added. she ran her hands through my hair, sending ripples through my skin.

let's go to the bed, i suggested.

she got up immediately, and followed me to my double, our fingers entwined. i lay down indulgingly, and she slid in next to me, her arm beneath my neck. i placed my right hand behind her head and pulled her gently towards me. i took her free hand with my left and took it into mine. i closed my eyes and kissed her passionately; she kissed me back. our hands disentangled and we explored the few yet untrodden whereabouts of each other's skin. we took our time with each other, exploring every inch of each other's face, neck, shoulders, arms, breasts, stomach, back. we stayed that way for hours, touching, exploring, and kissing. kiss after kiss, afterglow by afterglow, the friday evening ended, and saturday found us asleep in each other's arms.

that glorious weekend i gave myself to her, and i made marissa mine.


End file.
